


genuine compassion for all beings

by clickingkeyboards



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24823930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: A boy at Weston that George is tutoring asks him why he's friends with Alexander, and George delivers.(Possibly part one of a longer series)
Relationships: Alexander Arcady & George Mukherjee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	genuine compassion for all beings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AwkwardSauce0602](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardSauce0602/gifts).



“If I have to read another thing about the monarchy, I think I shall die,” George proclaimed, setting down his textbook with a dramatic flourish. “I know it all anyway. It’s absolutely elementary.”

From across the table, Noah Ashtikar looked up from his maths exercise book and said, “I think it’s all difficult. I just don’t  _ understand _ probability!”

“You’ve got a creative brain, Noah. This country’s school system may not understand but the real world will. Weston just isn’t  _ ready _ for an Indian composer.” George mimed playing the piano in a purposefully terrible way, making Noah giggle.

Noah Ashtikar was a First Former that George had stepped up to tutor after the Head Boy had collectively turned him down on behalf of all the prefects. Despite being the only Indian First Year, and one of the only boys in the year to severely struggle with his subjects, George was rather fond of him.

“Can we carry on with probability tomorrow, George? I’m  _ tired _ !” He dramatically shut his maths book and shoved his pencil into his bag, groaning and setting his chin on the table with a scowl.

“Yes, of course,” George chuckled, starting to pack his things away while looking at Noah’s grumpy and tired face. “I wouldn’t want to miss hanging out with Alex in the common room.”

With his chin resting on one hand and a thoughtful look on his face, Noah asked, “Why are you friends with him?”

George froze halfway through putting his exercise book in his bag. “Who?”

“Alexander Arcady,” he said, looking at George as if he were an idiot with the most belittling look that he could manage to shoot the older boy. “All you  _ do  _ is complain about him! Why are you friends with someone you don’t like?”

“Who says I don’t like him, Noah?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and raising an amused eyebrow. “Alexander is my best friend; anybody would be mad not to like him.”

“But why do  _ you _ ?” Noah was insistent, leaning forward even further and blinking up at him with innocent eyes. “If he’s mad on girls and daring and irritating and pokes fun at all the embarrassing things that have happened to you and sometimes plays tricks on you himself... why do you not think he’s horrid?”

“When someone is your best friend, Noah, they get a pass when they do silly things simply because you like them.” Playing his fingers up and down the engravings over the edge of the table, he tapped his foot against the table leg and thought. “You love your little sister, don’t you? Her name is... Juliet, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course I love her!” He looked almost affronted at the allegation that he could feel anything less than adoration for his sister, brow furrowed and jaw set.

“Even though she’s silly, and a trickster, and mischievous, and annoys you, and pulls your hair, and teases you when you fancy the girls that you meet at your dad’s dinner parties? Even then, Noah?” George’s smile was just as teasing as the sister he described, a raised eyebrow and a mouth twisted up into a smirk.

“Yes! But... oh!” After a pause, he said, “Alexander isn’t your brother! He’s white and  _ American _ !”

“Well spotted, Noah,” he retorted dryly. “Alexander is sort of like a brother to me. He’s... he’s my person. Most everybody has a person, don’t they?”

“Yes, but you and Alexander aren’t like  _ that _ , are you?” He lowed his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that made George chuckle.

“You know that I’m of no particular disposition, and Alex is far too hung up on Hazel Wong, even though he’s furiously denying it. No, sometimes people will have a person that isn’t the person that they fall in love with and marry. My brother... his person is his best friend. I have a close friend called Daisy, and her person is Hazel Wong, the lovely girl that Alex is gone over. You know Gallagher, in my year? His twin sister who is so poorly is his person, and he flat-out adores her. Your person doesn’t have to be the person you marry. And Alexander is  _ my  _ person.”

“That’s... nice. Do I have a person, George?” The boy sounded so worried and George felt himself soften.

“I’m sure that you do. You’re only twelve, you shouldn’t rush to find them. My parents didn’t meet until they were  _ twenty-five _ !”

“That’s late! They must be so very old!”

Deciding to humour the astonished young boy, despite mid-forties not being old at all, George played along and said, “Oh, ever so! My father has grey hairs!”

“That’s  _ so _ old!” Noah giggled. “What makes Alexander nice?”

“He’s kind. Really, he’s lovely. He’s a person that has so much compassion and kindness and  _ love _ in him, and he shares it with me. He sees the best in everyone, and I’m sure you know that I am quite bitter towards the world and I  _ can _ be quite nasty.” He didn’t say it with any malice, simply acknowledging that he was someone with a pessimistic outlook on life.

“In the Creative Writing Society, he said that you have a  _ talent _ !” he announced, leaning his head on one hand.

“I have not heard this, do tell,” George asked, half humouring him and half genuinely curious as to what Alexander told First Years when he wasn’t about.

Pleased to have George Mukherjee’s attention, which was so hard to garner, he said, “He says that, if there’s someone you don’t like, you have a talent to summon words from the depths of hell and decimate them in one horribly insulting sentence. Apparently, it’s the most brilliant thing he’s ever seen. He says that you can be wicked as anything when you want to!”

“I appreciate that I have had that impression on him,” George said, tucking it into his mental file of ‘things to be quietly pleased about’. “I suppose that it must be fun when you are not on the receiving end.”

“He says that you are admirably confrontational.” He took on a mockery of an American accent that sounded more Irish to George’s ear.

“He only notices that because he doesn’t have an unkind bone in his body. Relly. He’s generous and sweet and he’s got the nicest approach when it comes to anything and everything. I swear he would feel sorry for a murderer. I once told him that, if he was held at gunpoint, he would offer the murderer a handkerchief to wipe their sweat away.”

“That’s accurate. Isn’t he too nice for you?”

“He’s just right, Noah, You can never be too nice.”


End file.
